Draco and Ginny Drabble Collection
by scubarang
Summary: This is a collection of drabbles that will mostly be Draco and Ginny. It is in response to the DG Forum's 100 Days, 100 Drabbles Challenge. Rated T to be safe.
1. New

A/N: This is in response to the DG Forum's 100 Days, 100 Drabbles Challenge. I will be posting all drabbles in this story as individual chapters so anyone who is on my story alert will be getting quite a few alerts over the next three months. These will all be un-betaed so you all will have to forgive any and all SPaG errors. Anyway, I hope you enjoy them. The story titles are the prompts.

I will post the disclaimer in this first post, and it applies to all subsequent posts in this series.

All of the characters depicted here are the property of JKR.

* * *

"Draco, you have gone too far this time."

Inwardly wincing, the blond thought that his wife was not going to be happy about the rest of the announcement that he had to make; but it was too late for that now.

"Ginevra, I have already started the construction on the new stables. I have consulted with the architect and he has approved. The foundation is being laid as we speak and the marble will be delivered later today."

The air in his office became thick with tension and Draco thought that there might actually be a little smoke coming from her ears.

"Blaise is working with you on this?" Draco shivered from the sudden cold that entered the room. "He never mentioned it when we had tea yesterday. I will most definitely be speaking to him about this when we're finished."

Keeping his relief hidden from his tempestuous wife, he was glad he had given up Blaise in order to take the heat off himself. Blaise would most likely be expecting this and had probably warded his home and office already against the storm that was an angry Ginevra Malfoy.

"What exactly is it that is upsetting you about my decision, dear?"

"Well, _dear_, could it be the fact that it was _your_ decision and not _ours_? Or perhaps that it is totally inappropriate to give our daughter a new pony just because she asked for it?"

"Well, her birthday is in just five months and I want everything to be perfect for her and having long, drawn out discussions with you about it would most likely slow it down. She is a Malfoy and must be treated as such."

The redhead turned her back on her husband and took a deep breath. She promised Hermione that she would take the anger management classes and actually _do_ the things the counselor asked her to. This situation was testing those limits.

Turning back to her husband she thought she'd try reasoning with the spoiled aristocrat one more time before she shut the whole operation down.

"Let me understand this correctly, love. You met with Blaise, drew up plans, ordered materials, hired construction teams, and yet there was no time to discuss this with me?"

Knowing he had lost this round, Draco compromised by giving the love of his life his most charming smile and simply answered, "Yes."

"She's two, Draco."


	2. Broken

Of all the things he might have expected after the battle, this was not even close to any of them.

He and his family were almost outcasts in the converted Great Hall. No one was paying any attention to them, too caught up first in the rush of victory, then the quick stumble into despair for all that they had lost.

The Slytherin boy struggled to make sense of what had happened. Now free to admit it, if only to himself, he was deliriously happy the sick bastard was dead. He just hoped it lasted this time.

Keeping his head down, Draco thought about all the events that had brought him, and the Wizarding World, to this desolate place. There shouldn't be any need for celebration, no desperate pleas to whoever might be listening to save them all from the monster. But they had, even many of the Death Eaters had wished none if it had happened.

He saw how his family had helped the Dark Lord to achieve so many of his dreadful deeds and it made him feel sick to his stomach. He didn't hold himself accountable for all his actions, many had been forced upon him, but he knew that many times he had been hateful to others simply because they were allowed to do as they wished and battle against the evil. He had never had the option. He had familial obligations that must be upheld at all costs. Now those costs had to be paid and the price was high.

Nothing cost Draco more than the thought that Ginny might never speak to him again. She knew all his woes, all his fears, all his dastardly actions; and yet she had told him as they ran into battle that she would find him after. He had looked all over the castle for her until his parents forced him into the hall. He saw her family, but couldn't see her through all her brothers gathered around.

Suddenly, he saw her at the crumbling entry, following the people that carried her brother's lifeless form. He wanted to run to her, to hold her, to make love to her and make her forget. Ginny raised her head and looked directly into his eyes and he knew, she was broken, and he was the only one that could fix her.

* * *

A/N: This storyline will continue in the next chapters, but not all universes will be the same.


	3. Hope

There were certain words Draco had deleted from his inner vocabulary in the days after the Final Battle. He did his best not to even think them if he could help it.

Sometimes he failed.

Looking at those gathered around Fred's grave caused Ginny more pain than she thought she could handle anymore. One more glimpse of her broken mother and the youngest Weasley was sure she'd be a permanent resident next to Neville's parents all too soon. Another awkward encounter with Hermione or Harry might just be the spark that sets the tinder to flame. But most of all, Ginny thought that the voice inside her that pleaded for her to just run to Draco, hiding just behind the large Oak tree a few meters away, would crush the last bit of life from her shattered heart.

Afterwards, when all had gone except her, she finally allowed herself to give in. She gave up the ghost, as the all too appropriate adage said. Falling to her knees, Ginny threw a mighty tantrum worthy of the most pampered princess. Kicking, screaming and flailing her arms uselessly against the freshly dug dirt, the tiny redhead poured out her anguish upon the one soul that could no longer be worried about his baby sister and why she might be so distraught. In her overwhelming grief she didn't hear his approach, hadn't given him another thought after ignoring the voice in her head earlier.

Warm, firm arms surrounded her, raising her to her feet and out of the filth. The support of the person that only two years ago would have taunted her endlessly for rolling about in the dirt. Turning her in his arms, the tall blond did his best to keep up the façade; he couldn't let her know that he was scared. Scared she might run from him, scared she might tell him to leave, scared that she might never want to be a part of his wretched life again.

As the minutes passed she grew lax in his arms and he gave himself permission to do the one thing that he knew might end all things much too painfully – he hoped.


	4. Quills

"Excuse me, would you like to participate in a very important survey that could very well affect the entire population of the Wizarding world?"

Blaise looked up from his extremely boring and useless essay on the Troll war of 1413 that was led by Worf the Warrior (very original, those Trolls) at the sound of angels speaking to him.

"Yes, oh lovely mistress of the Etherworld. I think it's safe to assume that I (and you, in turn) would highly enjoy participation in any type of sport you might have in mind."

The airy Ravenclaw turned large, dreamy, silvery-blue eyes upon the gorgeous Slytherin boy sitting before her.

"Oh, well I don't play Quidditch, but I think you might play an important part in my quest for world domination through love, peace and respect for all living creatures."

As Blaise continued to stare, transfixed, he felt something inside of him begin to change. His chest got a warm feeling and he couldn't keep his mind from thinking about how it might feel to kiss the lips of the vision in front of him. He briefly closed his deep chocolate eyes, his eyelashes lay upon his finely chiseled cheekbones that only Pure-blood wizards were born with, and he took a deep breath.

"Would you like to be my girlfriend? I find myself intrigued by your free spirit and I want to become a better person by being in your constant presence."

Twirling a turquoise coloured quill through her blond locks, Luna focused in upon the boy sitting in front of her. Seeming to come to her decision she gave a silent nod and spoke again.

"It seems appropriate for this time of the season, so I suppose I shouldn't go against the wishes of the Narfler Queen."

"Precisely so, fair maiden. Now let me see your very important survey that will allow us the opportunity to take over the world. Things like that don't come along every day, now do they?"

Luna contemplated on what creature it might be that gave him that voice of silk and thought she would search through her Quibblers later, but for now, there was love to drown the masses with that needed to be harnessed.

"Here you go, Blaise Zabini," Luna handed him the parchment and her quill; "you may use my quill if you'd like. It's been Nargle-proofed, so we'll be just fine."

* * *

**A/N**: This is the prompt I _really_ wanted to use, but using the characters in the HP world was really stretching it. It's so AU that as a drabble I just couldn't do it with good conscience. But, the movie just would not leave my head the whole time I was writing the B/L drabble. Ron here is pretty OOC.

Oh, and if you hadn't guessed it already, the B/L was intended to be a crack!drabble.

The italicized quotes are all from Donatien Alphonse François de Sade**.**

**- X -**

"_Miserable creatures, thrown for a moment on the surface of this little pile of mud, is it decreed that one half of the flock should be the persecutor of the other? Is it for you, mankind, to pronounce on what is good and what is evil?"_

"This fellow was bloody brilliant, Hermione."

The brunette did her best not to roll her eyes at one on of her best friends. It wasn't the first time she wondered exactly how his brain functioned, and she doubted it would be the last.

"Ron, is this really the man whose philosophy speaks to you?"

"_Social order at the expense of liberty is hardly a bargain."_

The redhead gulped but decided it was time to stand his ground with her. She always made him feel like his decisions were all the wrong ones.

"Well, he was a bit mad, I suppose, but if you look at it from his point of view Hermione, he's not wrong."

"_In order to know virtue, we must first acquaint ourselves with vice."_

"Honestly, Ron, he was only concerned with his own pleasure. How can you find someone so decadent to be insightful?"

Inwardly cringing, knowing all the thoughts and worries he'd been having ever since deciding that Hermione was probably going to end up his wife whether he was ready for that or not, he decided that right now, as his future wife at some hopefully distant point in the future made him feel small and not so sure anymore that the famous sadist was the best guy to look up to, he thought that maybe this time bravery was not in his best interest.

"_The horror of wedlock, the most appalling, the most loathsome of all the bonds humankind has devised for its own discomfort and degradation."_

"I should have never taken you to see that movie."


	5. Doorway

Draco found himself wishing that Astoria had never thrown Blaise out. Two weeks ago he had shown up on the steps of the manor, dishevelled and clearly hungover.

"It's over. She left me for that bloody tosser, Potter."

Calling for a House Elf to prepare a guest room had been the biggest mistake he'd made in a long time.

Later that night, drunk and slightly morose after listening to his best mate cry in his scotch all night, Draco found himself returning Blaise's sloppy, drunken kiss. Anything to help a mate, right?

The kiss didn't bother him so much as the odd, new gleam he saw in Ginny's eyes when he told her about it later in bed. The sex was rough and hot, and in his still drunken state, slightly surreal.

Now, standing in the shadow of the door watching his wife kiss his best mate of over twenty years on their bed, he wondered how he had never seen it before.

How had he never noticed that Blaise always knew what to do to keep him sane, that they had saved each other from disasters both big and small so many times, never saw the odd gleam in Blaise's eyes? How had he been so blind to the love that was between them?

Now he was sucking at Ginny's nipple like his life depended upon it and Draco had never seen her look so wanton and sexy. The contrast of her light to Blaise's dark had him aroused to a level he'd not felt before. He'd always been rather possessive of her attention and seeing her give it so freely to Blaise was driving him over the edge, the good edge. He felt uncommonly uncomfortable and unsure of what to do next.

This was all so new even though he and Ginny had discussed it nightly for the last two weeks as they listened to Blaise in his room; sometimes crying drunkenly, sometimes crying out in pleasure as his self-love took him over the edge.

Really it was his own fault, he told Ginny to take care of the whole thing and she hadn't wasted time. Draco found himself in the unenviable position of extremely aroused voyeur and in contemplation of slipping back into the shadows unseen.

"Love, come join us, we need you."

No longer confused, now only needed, Draco knew what came next.

Sanctuary and bliss.


	6. Breathless

Blaise wasn't exactly sure how all of this had come about. First was the shock of Astoria leaving him for the over-rated hero of the Wizarding World. Next had been the drunken, yet sensual kiss with Draco; and then Draco's wife asking if he'd like to help her tame a wild dragon.

Knowing that Draco was the one who wanted it was hot, seeing him watching from the shadow of the bedroom doorway was almost more than Blaise thought he could bear at the moment.

Blaise was no fool, he knew that Draco's fancy might waver over the small things, but once he set his mind to something, he was as solid as the deepest vaults at Gringott's.

Draco had welcomed Blaise into the fold that he and Ginny had perfected over their last ten years of marriage. He would expect Blaise to give as much as he got in not only the bedroom, but in all dealings within the manor. Blaise knew that if Draco found tonight's events to his liking, he would be expected to act as an equal partner with Draco and Ginny.

The blond was not a man to take things lightly, or without sufficient forethought to feel comfortable in taking a risk. Blaise had thought all of this through after Ginny's invitation and knew that he could find nothing better in this world than to share a home with the man who had literally been through the wars with him.

He'd realised that he loved Draco years ago, watched him walk down the aisle towards his redheaded bride and knew that he was missing out on something. He remembered how happy he was for his best friend, and how sad that he hadn't seen it sooner. He wasn't in love with Draco, but he was the only person Blaise could say he loved without reservation.

Blaise felt the dip of the mattress as Draco joined them, the hot brush of fingertips over his back, the caress of firm, yet subtle lips upon the back of his neck and the hot breath of sensuality in his ear.

"You're mine. Once I've let you in only I decide if you can get out."

Breathless from the rush of want and need that flooded over him, Blaise looked to Ginny and seeing her hope, he turned to Draco to seal the deal with a hot, passionate kiss.


	7. Pain

Pain flooded his already weakened body, pushing his tolerance to the limits, leaving him breathless and begging for relief. By now he didn't care if the relief came from death or the blessed touch of wood that sometimes came if the healers remembered to check on him.

Time drags on and he wonders if they have all forgotten about him. Wonders if they forgot he was here, still struggling with the pain and despair he'd known since the final battle, since the pulse of the spell that killed Voldemort washed over the battle participants and he'd felt his life begin to drain away.

Writhing and moaning, wondering why the Dark Lord's death was so painful. Hadn't he been wishing for just this moment? Hadn't he been silently plotting and waiting for the opportunity to kill him? No longer able to sit idly by and wait for Harry Potter to do the job, he waited. But the moment never came and that fateful event went to Harry after all.

And now he lay in the shadows of the infirmary of Hogwarts wondering if anyone cared that he lived, died a little more each passing minute. So many minutes – to think about the battle, how he'd gotten there, where he was going to now. He thought he'd been doing the right thing, protecting his blood status; and now that blood slowly drained away, taking his life force with it.

And what did he have to show for all of this? A wife he wasn't sure was alive any longer, a son that if alive, was wanted by the Death Eaters and a family name that was now covered in the vilest of filth. The taint of loss, betrayal and the knowledge of all his failings covered him; surely no one could see him now.

Hours later found a battered blond, too old for his years, kneeling beside his father. Words of wisdom flowed from the older man's lips and his son fought to keep his tears at bay, tears that sprang from the knowledge that his father would not live to see the next sunrise.

The young man held his head high as his father passed on and struggled to keep all his teachings in the front of his mind. His father's last words were the easiest to follow.

"Stay true to yourself; you're the only one who knows what truth is."


	8. Test

Ginny rubbed her forehead for what was perhaps the hundredth time in the last five minutes. She could feel the head ache building and wondered if this was part of the test as well. Could she make it though the test without going mad? What was more maddening, the test itself or the anticipation of the results? And really, the redhead knew she was worried about nothing.

Ginny knew that no matter what the results, her life would go on. It might be much more eventful than her life right now, but she didn't think she wanted any more events in her life. Wasn't getting engaged to the Malfoy heir enough excitement? Didn't she get enough thrills sparring with his overbearing mother about the flowers for the wedding?

Apparently not.

Taking a deep breath, Ginny searched for her Gryffindor bravery and forced herself to look at the test, to face the outcome that may or may not change her life forever.

A knock on the door found a crying Ginny Weasley a few minutes later.

"Love, what is it? What's wrong?"

"Draco, I'm not pregnant."

Ginny's loud and tearful exclamation had Draco confused. This was a good thing, right? They weren't even married yet and hadn't even talked about having children. His life flashed suddenly before his eyes and Draco found himself sitting down next to Ginny with a not so graceful plop.

"Um, that's too bad?"

Not sure if he was saying the right thing, he figured it would be best to assume that she wanted a baby.

"No, no, it's a good thing! I can't have babies yet, I'm too young. I want to live with you for years and years without having to share you with anyone."

Taking his sobbing fiancé into his arms, Draco heaved a sigh of relief and ran his fingers through her soft and silky hair; hair that he loved and hoped to someday see on a miniature version of his bride to be, but not now.

"Shh. I don't think we need to worry about seeing any pink haired babies in the near future." Draco kissed her gently on her pouting lips. "I happen to be quite selfish and have decided that babies will not be allowed until we become so bored with each other that we will welcome the presence of a miniature Malfoy."


	9. Drink

"C'mon, Malfoy. Just come with us this one time. Don't you want to be part of the team?"

Shallow words from shallow people, and they did nothing to persuade the reticent young man to go along with their good time adventure after a long two weeks of training.

It's not that Draco didn't like their company, for the most part. He just couldn't be distracted from his goal.

After his father's death at the Final Battle and his mother's battle to regain her social status, Draco knew that ultimately the resurgence of the Malfoy name had to come from his actions and decisions. So he had joined the Aurors and promised himself (Lucius) that he would make good on all things Malfoy and prove that his father had been the best man he could have been; at least at the end of all things.

He mostly kept to himself because he knew that none of his fellow trainees really understood what he stood for. He still believed in blood purity, just not the insane way Voldemort and his followers had tried to pursue it. He almost welcomed it when a Muggle-born girl liked him; it made it easy for him to turn her away. None of them would understand, except perhaps for the bane of his existence, Ginevra Weasley.

They'd all been in training for three weeks when a new student came, all brash words and even brasher actions. She was a menace to all in one way or another. She'd shamed them all with her enthusiasm, support and kindness. Draco tried his best not to shudder every time she gave a hug to a team member and to avoid the embarrassing act when he could. But those times he couldn't avoid? They were the highlight of his day that he wouldn't even admit to himself.

"It's okay mates, I'm sure the bloke needs his _alone_ time." Snickers from some of the others had no effect upon the blond. "Let's go before they decide to withdraw our leave for the night."

As the others gathered their books to leave, a soft hand snuck under the table and squeezed his knee in some sort of comforting touch.

"Draco and I have things to do. You lot have fun."

Draco decided the opportunity to drink up her presence in a more intimate manner was the best he could do in this life.


	10. Anger

Wave after wave of heated energy flowed out of him as he watched the group of family and friends on the platform that day.

He was a proud man seeing his son off to Hogwarts for the first time and the last thing he wanted to do was to face his demons that had been hidden away all of these years, all of these loveless years of marriage with a son that he couldn't love enough. He'd never felt pure love like he had with Scorpius, not even with the unacknowledged love of his life.

Fire in his chest threatened to leak out as he watched her with her two sons and daughter that she'd had with another man. He'd sometimes allowed himself the fantasy that Harry and Astoria might fall in love and they could just switch. But life and love are never that easy for a Malfoy.

His face feels flushed; a cold sweat runs down his spine as she turns his way, then looks through him. He curls his fist in his pocket and resists the urge to just whip out his wand and destroy the thing that keeps them apart. But he knows she would never have him if he was to do that. No matter that they would be free of Potter and his heavy weight of obligations. No matter that her children would have another brother to play with, that Astoria could be dealt with in an entirely easy manner. She wouldn't respect him, and that would ruin him beyond repair. At least now they could pretend, pretend that she hadn't chosen family and society obligations over him. Draco could pretend that the love he had for his son extended to Astoria as well. He knew that was his lot in life now. Ginny would never leave Harry, and that had the anger bubbling almost out of control.

Turning back to his son, he knelt down to look into the grey eyes that were so much a part of himself. He did the last thing he expected and hugged his son close. He felt the love, excitement of starting school and embarrassment of being shown such affection by his father in his son's embrace.

Standing tall again, he looked down on the love of his life and felt his anger wash away. Regardless of who bore him, this was all Draco needed now.


	11. Dreams

"I just wish I could remember them, Luna. Every night I have these dreams that have me waking in a cold sweat and reaching out for something. The weird thing is, they're always at the platform for the Hogwarts Express. That's the only thing I remember when I wake up. I know Harry, Ron and Hermione are there, but I don't know what they're doing. I just remember being so sad and reaching out for _someone_ that I don't remember."

The Ravenclaw that had turned out to be the best friend Ginny could have ever found, simply looked back at her with that dreamy look that Ginny knew meant she was analyzing everything Ginny had just told her and coming up with a conclusion that would be entirely odd but absolutely correct at the end of the day.

"I'm pretty sure the Dream Faeries are helping you Ginny. If they're sending this message to you every night then it must be looked into. I daresay you picked up some of them in the Forbidden Forest when we went out foraging last week. They are not to be ignored, Ginny. There is a reason the forest is forbidden."

Ignoring Luna's contradictions when she had told her the forest was harmless when they went out hunting for Nargle Lillies, Ginny sighed and gave up hope in figuring out the enticing dreams.

"Is there someone else in the dreams, Ginny?"

Shocked, as always, by Luna's insightfulness into the unspoken, Ginny hung her head and mumbled the answer she knew couldn't be avoided.

"I thought it might be him. It's not surprising the faeries are pushing this, then. He is quite the object of desire for them. They like his white hair."

"But why me, Luna? I don't _want_ to like Malfoy. He's such a git, a handsome git, but still a right twat most of the time. I don't like this faery interference into my love life. They've no right to invade my dreams and fill them with _him_."

Ginny's despair over her dreams amused Luna and she gave her friend a hug and a few words of advice before she left.

"Why not try it? The faeries are never wrong. The worst that happens is you find out he's not the one. Though I doubt that's the truth of it. Fate is not set in stone, it is up to you."


	12. Puzzle

A/N: The challenge is long over, but I wanted to finish, so at my whim I will continue to post the remaining drabbles. They will exceed the word limit at times but I wanted them to have a little more depth, but I will do my best to follow the original challenge of 400 words or less.

* * *

"Oi, miss, I think you've lost your kerchief."

Sighing, Ginny turned around knowing that who, or what, had spoken those words would not be anything that she might have ever imagined. Right, a giant penguin wearing magenta spandex pants and an otter lounging on top of its head eating a branch of wild berries.

"Thank you, good sir." She'd found out early on it was easier to adapt to the scene as it was set before her. "It was a gift from my mum, and I'm sure she'd be happy to know that you saved it."

_Poof_.

"Now why'd you wanna go an' do that fer?" The redhead startled and turned as another voice sounded to her right.

"I'm sor-" The words lost as Ginny realized it was a rather large stone that had a general appearance of her Aunt Muriel in its short statue and somewhat lumpy appearance. "I'm sorry, I didn't realise I had, um, offended you?" The apology coming out as a question since the girl wasn't quite sure what she had done to the rock.

"Yes, well, jus' don' let it 'appen again, then."

When Ginny turned to the stone to ask about the group of trees in the distance, the stone was simply gone.

Knuckling her fingers into her eyes and muffling her mouth with the heels of her hands, the frustrated young witch screeched into her hands.

"What is happening to me?"

"If I had to make an assumption, I'd say you were going a bit mad."

Ginny cringed inwardly, fighting the inevitability of opening her eyes to find something new and outrageous. Her bravery had fled ages ago and all she wanted was to be home again, safe and loved by family and friends.

A firm and warm hand on her shoulder.

"I've brought the antidote, Ginny. Professor Snape is with me."

The voice urged her to try and reach for peace again.

"Is he wearing any unnatural material? Or animal parts? I can't bear to see another chocolate biscuit or cute, little, fuzzy grey donkey ever again!"

Draco was thankful her despairing wail covered up his amused chuckle.

"Shhh, love, it's going to be okay now. He's wearing a very smart one hundred percent cotton outfit and I promise he has no biscuits to tempt you with." Brushing his long fingers through her hair, he did his best to calm her. "Now just drink this potion down and this will all be over soon."

As Ginny felt the potion start to work she could hear the smirk in his voice as she faded into sleep.

"I told her not to eat those mushrooms from the forest."

* * *

A/N : This particular prompt gives a reference to a CS Lewis character (that I adore) as well as an extremely over-reached reference to the supposedly drug induced writings of another brilliant author. Please don't hold it against them.


	13. Discrepant

A/N: Bit of Ron/Hermione drama with Ginny in the roll as righteous defender. Weasley family values.

* * *

"Hermione, stop right there." The voice of her once close friend was filled with venom. "You don't get to come here and ask me for forgiveness when Ron is the one you ruined."

Her voice froze in her throat, the knowledge that she truly had broken her once dearest friend. "I know, Ginny, and I'm so sorry. I never wanted to hurt him; he'd just grown so distant from me. He seemed to be a different person, someone I didn't know anymore. So changed…"

Her voice drifted off under the hard glare of her friend. "He _was_ different Hermione, he's a grown man now, not a child on his first day at Hogwarts." She twisted the plain platinum ring on her finger as she spoke. "Did you ever happen to think that _you're_ the one who isn't any different? That perhaps what you viewed as his 'discrepant' behaviour that you noted in the divorce was in fact maturity that you haven't got any clue of? He's tending to the children as you work in your lab all day and night. Who's the unknowable person now?"

Hermione lifted her tear-streaked face as she heard Ginny's chair scrape protestingly against the tiles of the floor. She felt her heart clench and knew she had lost her last adversary in the Weasley house.

"I appreciate that you're sorry, Hermione. Perhaps I even feel sympathy for your plight. But I can't forget the hurtful words you used to try and make Ron look and feel stupid in front of everyone. I cried the night I saw him have to look some of the words up in a book just so he could know what you were telling the court about him. I felt his shame, and I never want to see him put in that position again. He loved you for so long because you were the smartest person he knew and he had faith in that. And in the end you used it against him. "

The older woman looked down, unable to meet Ginny's eyes, knowing under it all that she was right. But she still had her pride, she couldn't be blamed for it all.

"Then why did Ron let me go without fighting? Why didn't he tell me that I had hurt him so much?"

"I feel nothing but pity for you. I think perhaps the title of smartest witch of our time was the discrepant thing between you, he clearly never saw that you understand nothing."


End file.
